One Million Stuggles
by MadFace
Summary: It wasn't rare for a new war to break out. So why was it rare this time?


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. It belongs to its rightful and respectful owners.**

_**WARNING: Swearing and violence are in this story. If you're not one for violence and swearing, you might want to turn away from this story now.**_

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Slowly, he lifted his head.

The world swam around him in a messy portrait of colors, a sea of despair, of misery, agony. A wet essence dribbled down his face, from his left eye, which was oddly not allowing vision. Disoriented, a single, throbbing finger rose from the wet ground, entering his vision. The glimpse of mud was registered, but what screamed out even more to him was the loose, blood-stained bandages that were wrapped around the hand. White no longer existed.

His eye trailed up to his throbbing, aching fingers, expecting to see all five, but that's when everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

Two taunting, guffawing bloody stumps that were once fingers met his vision.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight.

His heart beat sped up incredibly.

And it suddenly seemed to sink in.

His blue eyes scanned the land for answers, yet only gained more questions. Where was he? Why were there so many bodies, all unmoving, bloodied…dead? What had happened? What had he caused this time?

How many more died because of him?

Anger swelled up within him, drowning him, choking him with its hands… A strangled, tearless sob escaped him, his three-fingered hand digging into the muddy, blood stained ground. His eyes squeezed shut, his top teeth viciously biting down on his lower lip. "Dammit!" he yelled, slamming his other hand on the ground. Pain bit through his hand, spreading up to his wrist. Ignoring the pain, he continued to slam his fist on the ground while sobbing tearless sobs.

"Why do I have to keep screwing up!?" he screamed, voice echoing through the battle field. "Why do I have to keep killing my own people?!" The pounding of rain relentlessly pelted his head as he continued assaulting the ground, fury and sorrow reaching new measures as he cursed at anyone and everyone. The dark clouds that seemed to be releasing their own distresses too remained silent, only watching the spectacle with anguished eyes.

Once the only noise was the rain, he dragged his eyes up from the muddy ground.

The tears that escaped the sky blurred his vision, which was already hazy due to the lack of his glasses, and everywhere his blue orbs scanned held moving shadows…shadows that whispered to one another as they discreetly closed in on him. His upper jaw bit down on his lower lip, his taste buds suddenly being drowned with a metallic taste. Blue eyes became narrow once he spotted a shadow dart between trees…A _real _shadow, that is. How could he tell it was real?

He saw the flash of eyes…the flash of _violet _eyes.

Almost instantly, his hands clenched even more than thought possible. His entire body stiffened, becoming as still as a stick. Thoughts raced through his mind at a frantic, panicked speed, his heart thumping faster than thought possible. The sound of his heartbeat thumped relentlessly in his ears, accompanied by the rain that vigorously attacked him.

"So I finally see that you made a mistake, da?" an eerie voice asked, voice child-like and holding innocence but in reality, the person that owned the voice was anything but. If it was possible, his entire body would've frozen into ice.

"Ru-Ru-" He uttered out, voice so pathetic that he felt extreme self-hatred, that he despised himself at that moment. How could he sound so weak when in reality...he was one of the strongest people...one of the strongest people to be breathing, blinking...living? It was pathetic.

"We could all sense it...We all knew it was coming. You knew it too, da?" the wrongly innocent voice responded, great glee lacing the fluent line his words created. The sway of a white scarf appeared behind the line of the trees that were painted charcoal. "You could see it. We could all see it...Some tried to help, but you pushed them away."

The sound of a twig snapping resonated through the valley. The man on the ground flinched, desperately searching for help...for a defense...for anything that could save him from dying.

Anything that could keep his country from falling.

Footsteps slapped against the bloody and muddy ground, growing louder in his ears as he searched with his eyes, craving to see his gun, to see true freedom in his hands as he fought back harder than ever before.

A shimmer of black caught his eyes.

He turned his head, catching the sight of a trustworthy pistol. Relief swelled up within him, choking him with its hold as he attempted to crawl over.

Before he could even be a foot closer, a foot stomped down on his wrist.

A scream of pain amplified within his throat, but clenched teeth formed a barrier that kept the noise at bay. He knew it would please the man beyond measure…that he would surely smile with fake innocence and stomp on his other wrist, snapping it too.

Abruptly, a hand was digging into the collar of his torn uniform, dragging him upwards. Nails dug through the fabric, biting into his mud-covered skin. A strangled gasp escaped him as his enemy threw him up towards the sky, legs flailing as he tightened his hold on the hand that continued to grip him.

Almost immediately, he was arching upwards, spinal cord hollering in pain as all air escaped him. The world blurred together as he gazed at the dark sky with wide, burdened eyes, his peripheral vision being overrun by a black haze.

"You're an imbecile."

A kick to the gut.

"You're hopeless."

Being pinned to the ground as his attacker climbed on top of him.

"You're weak."

A punch to the face.

"Your people deserve to die."

An internal stab to the heart.

"Along with you."

A brutal pain stabbed through him. Explosions of agony erupted in his stomach, along with the feeling of warmth tricking down his stomach. A fire began within him, burning strongly in his stomach as he gazed up at the dark, smoke-filled sky with calculating eyes.

His breath left him as he stared at the dark sky, taking his beating from the larger country. He somehow managed to realize that his body had fallen into its natural defense mechanism. All attacks performed on him inflicted a pain for a second, but then everything numbed.

He felt like he was drifting through an ocean of smoke…of peace…of regret.

It was a change.

A very, very comforting change.

The smoke-filled sky eventually began to dim. The flickers of black spots began to cloud his vision, desperately wishing for his full attention. A new haze washed over him, the ocean of smoke washing over him. Taking in a deep breath through his nose, the smell of the smoke almost made him cough, yet he held it back.

Closing his eyes, he released the breath, the haze overpowering all other senses.

Until his voice was called out in a panicked voice.

"America!"

His eyes opened an inch, vision blurry. The all too familiar sky met his unclear gaze, yet he did not welcome the view this time. No, he wanted to welcome to owner of that familiar voice. He wanted to see that green one last time.

He wanted to remember his childhood…his innocence…his regrets before he fell.

Before he finally failed to be a hero.

The realization that there was no longer a weight pinning him down struck him, causing his eyebrows to pull together and for his lip to turn upward in a rather childish manner. Of course, he would've already been limping to safety if he could've, but it was rather obvious he was in no condition to crawl away. In fact, it would've be such a dishonorable act that he would've never been able to look in another person's eyes without feeling a pang so powerful that he would've fallen to the ground, clutching at his heart with such ferocity it would've put all other strengths to shame.

The sound of panicked footsteps neared him, labored breathing accompanying it as it neared his pale, stained body. The pelting of rain comforted him as the footsteps neared him, creating a steady beat as he waited...waited...and waited until...

Splatters of mud flew around him, some hitting his failing body. A hand was suddenly gripping his bruised shoulder, drawing a wince from the dying man. Horrified forest green eyes appeared over his own, blocking out the smoky sky. Rain droplets dribbled down that familiar face as the two stared at each other in such silenced horror (one being pain) that any disruptive noise would've ruined everything...would've ruined the reminiscing of the easy yet forgotten past. It was a portrait that would only be shared with the two, yet with only one actively.

The other one would never remember it.

"Why?" Is what the ignorant ask from afar.

The knowledged ones that accompany them reply with, "Because he's dead, stupid."

Yet history was currently being made. It was currently being printed on paper. No one knew if it was being written on new, posh paper, or if it was being drawn on yet another piece of the object created from trees.

No one knew if the other would no longer have those blue orbs all loved, or if they would still lighten up with life whenever he laid them on a Big Mac...or a few...or a few hundred... The realization caused those forest green eyes to squint together, becoming blurry as tears washed over. The owner of the green eye's face became shadowed as he lowered his head, frame trembling as he gritted his teeth, attempting to hide his sorrow yet failing miserably.

The dying hero only smiled weakly. He gave a small chuckle, causing the one that was above him to shoot him a surprised glower. "Why are you laughing, you git?" the one hissed through hissed teeth, eyes a glare.

Said "git" only threw a sloppy grin back, ignoring the throb from his fingers as he lifted his hand. Despite the fact that gravity seemed to pull down on his arm at full force, he found it fairly easy to rest his hand on the older man's shoulder. The grin died down to a smile. "Thanks for everything, old man. And about the tea..." A wink was performed as if there was no such thing as death approaching. "Sorry about dumping it in the harbor."

Tears mixed with rain as the forest green eyes squeezed them shut, face twisting into one of a heart broken sob. Hands dug into his bloodied, torn bomber jacket as they clung onto him as if he would die not doing so. "I-I'll never forgive you, you bl-bloody fool," he spat.

The other knew very well that this was not about the tea. His eyebrows furrowed, creating a crease as he gazed down at the man's blonde, messy hair. Their shoulders trembled more violently than ever thought possible as he released sobs, and it was difficult that this man used to rule the world...that this man fought against him as he declared independence...that this was the man that cursed him out at various meetings.

He felt another pang.

"He said something..."

Those forest green eyes reappeared in his view, bloodshot yet still elegant and bursting with life. "Well we all do say something, fool."

"No...listen, Iggy." Said man frowned at the nickname he'd gained as the other smiled. "He said that all of you could tell this was going to happen..." The British man looked away, almost ashamedly. "I don't care about whether or not France knew, or if China did, but I want to know...did you?"

'Iggy' looked away, almost ashamedly. "Of course I did. I tried to help, but you insisted that you were fine. You said that your people would calm down eventually, that the new gang that was arising would die out soon just like every other one does...but that wasn't the case, was it?" he whispered out, voice barely audible over the constant pitter of ruthless rain. "It's just like 1861...except this time, there were machine guns." He gestured to a fallen soldier a few feet away that was clutching said weapon. "There were rocket launchers..."A point to yet another dead man that gripped the destructive weapon. "There was you."

"I-I didn't want to bother all of you. I thought I could handle it..." he trailed off after catching a glimpse of a fire, yet not an orange fire. It was a flame that overpowered all other flames…a flame that could put forest fires to shame.

It was the fire that lived within angry green eyes.

"You thought?" he murmured. Those eyes were suddenly much closer than before, and the dying hero realized that he was being pulled closer, fingers pulling on his stained shirt rather forcefully. "YOU'RE PEOPLE WERE STRUGGLING DUE TO THE ECONOMY! POVERTY SURROUNDS YOUR COUNTRY LIKE A PACK OF WOLVES SURROUNDS A SINGLE PREY! CHILDREN DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE LETTER 'A' LOOKS LIKE! AND OVERALL, YOUR PEOPLE ARE LOSING HOPE! THEY SAY AMERICA IS NO LONGER THE COUNTRY OF THE FREE, YET OF THE MISERABLE! OF THOSE IN DESPAIR! AND YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE OKAY WHEN A POWERFUL GANG THAT WAS DETERMINED TO TAKE OVER THE COUNTRY ROSE?" he yelled, taking even himself back. Biting down on his lip, a metallic taste attacked his tastebuds as he gazed with wide eyes at the furious man above him. Another sob tore through the man, causing him to drop his head on the younger's chest. "I just don't want to lose you..."

A strained laugh was put into action. "I'm not dead yet!"

The older one shook their head. "Yet being the key word, idiot."

The younger man rolled their eyes, lips twitching despite the pain that was beginning to throb in his heart. "Brighten up. At least you can expand your country once I'm dead."

"And yet you say I'm the one that needs to brighten up."

The blonde with blue eyes grinned once again, yet it was cut off when a flaring pain shot through him, seeming to cut away at his heart. His eyes widened, a gasp being drawn from him as he clutched at his heart. The image of blood splattering everywhere lapsed with the current one...the echo of a mother's scream as her child was dragged away overpowering the rain. "S-Shit...I-I need you to run," he hissed out, not surprised to see an exasperated look on the other's face.

"And leave you? Are you finally insane?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Says the one that believes something called a 'Flying Mint Bunny' exists," the gasping one retorted, drawing a frown on the elder's face by doing so. "Listen, they're coming, and if they get you, your entire country is in danger. So I need you to run."

"But you'll die if I-"

The dying one shot a glare. "I'm going to die anyway. The only reason that I'm not yet dead is because your country is assisting mine." The confusion on the opposite's face was clear as the blue eyed man's fate. "You're speaking to me. If you hadn't arrived earlier, I'd be dead. Somehow, when we speak to each other, we keep each other alive...It's some weird shi-" The sound of dogs barking the distance grabbed both's attention, creating a tension that burdened the air and their shoulders. "Go."

"Amer-"

"GO!"

The other one flinched, peering in his eyes in absolute and utter horror before swallowing roughly, standing rather clumsily. "I won't let you die..." he whispered.

"Neither will I let you; after all, I am a hero."

After gazing at each other for a single moment that felt like a century, those forest green eyes disappeared, the owner sprinting away. The sound of frantic footsteps echoed in his ears as he returned to painting an everlasting portrait of the sky in his mind. As the barking grew louder, his grip on the fabric and skin that rest atop his heart tightened, lips turning downward and eyes narrowing as he prepared himself.

The sound of heavy footsteps drew closer.

He breath solely through his nose, not wishing to release a cough that would surely send blood flying.

"Any last words, scum?"

A small smile appeared. "The hero always prevails."

And with that, a whole new war began:

The One Million Struggles War.

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**I finally got it done! *cries tears of joy***

**I've been sick lately (which is absolutely terrible) and despite having extreme stomach problems today, I managed to get it finished.**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this one! Not sure if I'm gonna continue, but if there's quite a few requests for a continuation I'd probably do so. ^_^ It'd take time though.**

**Also, pardon any spelling/grammar errors. Once again, I typed this up when I was sick. My brain+sickness=HORROR. And I'm sorry if I made them OOC. It's my first time writing about these two, and once again...Imma sick MadFace. *gets slapped for the overused excuse***

**Go ahead and leave a review. There's no need to be shy with them. A simple "I liked it" or "You could improve here..." is appreciated. But no flames please! I don't want my computer bursting into flames.**

**Have an awesome day/week! ^_^ **


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